


Revenge

by ChocolateKid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Dark Castiel, Dark Dean Winchester, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Drugged Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, Kinky, Kissing, M/M, Older Dean, Oral Sex, Pictures, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rapist Castiel, Rapist Dean, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, So basically, Unconscious Dean Winchester, Unconscious Sex, Young Castiel (Supernatural), and roofies dean instead, but i think it kinda does have plot after all, cas notices, dean gets raped and likes it, dean tries to roofie cas, either non-con or very dubious con, i couldn't decide whether this was pwp or porn with plot, idk - Freeform, kinda dark but not really?, or rather revenge rape lol, they're both raping assholes in this, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 23:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12119310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateKid/pseuds/ChocolateKid
Summary: When Dean meets Castiel in a club, he tries to roofie him. Castiel notices however, and, deciding Dean deserves some form of revenge, roofies him back instead.





	Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> This is just something I had in my mind for a while and only now came around to writing it.
> 
> I don't mean to disrespect or offend people who got roofied (because it's _horrible_ , I know that) and I do not accept any and all kinds of date rape drugs/rape in general, but this is a work of fiction, so I decided to write it. I get that it's unrealistic and wrong. Please do not read if you're triggered easily and read the warnings, please. Thank you!
> 
> For the ones who stick with me and continue reading, enjoy!

The club felt like it was vibrating, that's how loud the music was. Masses of people filled the dance floor, grinding on each other and not caring about who was watching. A few drunk teenagers with fake IDs were moving among them, looking for some fun and an easy lay. Because that's exactly the kind of place this was, a semi-legal club with semi-legal parties and patrons looking for relief -- one way or the other.

Castiel smiled to himself when he entered the building, a feeling of familiarity curling in his gut. He felt home in here, having spent a quarter of his life in clubs like this, willingly or not. He'd had the kind of friends who would drag him along to places like this, and after a while, Castiel really wasn't bothered by it anymore. He rather enjoyed it actually.

Ignoring the way his friends immediately scattered when they set foot inside, Castiel headed for the bar first. It was what he always did, get a drink and then find a place to hang out. He wasn't one for dancing, even though he knew how to, but rather sat around doing some harmless flirting with strangers. (Also, some _serious_ flirting and the inevitable hook-up every once in a while.)

Tonight wasn't any different. Getting himself a cocktail in an intense blue color and taking a sip, he spotted a few couches at the other end of the room. Knowing that this was exactly his kind of place, he started walking towards them.

A bunch of people were already there, occupying most of the space, leaving only smaller parts for someone else to sit, in the hopes of interesting company.

"You got space for one more?" Castiel spoke over the music, locking eyes with a stunning model-type man in his thirties. He had intense green eyes and a stubbled jaw, and he was weirdly pretty for a man his age. He was obviously older than Castiel by about ten years but Castiel wasn't all that bothered by it. He'd screwed around with older guys before and he'd never been disappointed.

The guy looked him up and down -silently contemplating whether Castiel was worth the space beside him- when he came to a decision and a lewd smirk appeared on his face.

"Only for you, my dear," he answered, sending Castiel a predatory smirk that had Castiel's dick twitching in his pants but he simply smiled back innocently. The man moved to the left a little and Castiel sat down in between him and another guy, the space just big enough for Castiel to fit. Their sides were conveniently pressed against each other's and Castiel was close enough to smell the man's cologne. Oh, how he wished that guy was lying beneath him right now, dick buried in his ass as Castiel rode him into oblivion...

Maybe there was time for that later.

"I'm Castiel," he introduced himself, setting down his drink on the small table in front of them and held out his hand for the man to shake.

"Dean," the other man said. His skin was rough and calloused, his handshake strong. Oh yes, Castiel could appreciate a firm grip. Very much so...

He smiled in response.

"Are you here alone?" Dean wanted to know, leaning forward to take his glass in hand again, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Castiel replied, not bothering to explain that his friends were the last persons he wanted to see when he was at a party; even though he had _technically_ arrived together with them. "How about you, Dean?"

"The very same, hot stuff," he responded, smirking.

Castiel huffed. "You're one to talk," he commented the nickname. "How old are you anyway?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"36, but you'd be surprised by how fit I still am." He winked. "And you, gorgeous? You seem a little young for a place like this," Dean asked in return, trying to gage whether or not Castiel was already of age. Castiel smiled in response. He had the suspicion Dean was one of those men who liked 'em young and Castiel wouldn't disappoint.

"Just turned 18," he lied smoothly. He was actually 21, but he looked younger, younger than 18 even, and he knew Dean would believe him the second he told him.

Dean's eyes turned darker. Bingo.

"Barely legal then, huh?" he asked, voice lowering suggestively. "I gotta say, you have guts, coming here on your own. Not everyone has intentions as noble as I do concerning barely legal twinks like you."

"Oh? And what exactly are those intentions of yours, if I may ask?" Castiel inquired, returning Dean's heated gaze with a look that was just as lustful.

"Oh, nothing special," Dean said, leaning forwards slowly, so his lips were hovering right next to Castiel's ear, hot breath making the younger man shudder involuntarily. Dean's hand wrapped around Castiel's glass, delicately touching his fingertips. "I just want to shove you against a table and hold you down while I fuck into your tight little ass until you're screaming," he explained. Castiel let out a silent groan at the explicit picture, only barely stopping himself from tending to the half-hardness in his pants.

Dean continued. "And then, after I used you for the first time, I'll make you get down on your knees and suck my cock, while my cum is still leaking out of your abused hole," he mumbled, sucking Castiel's ear lobe between his teeth and nibbling on it. And even though Castiel was now fully hard and more turned on than he'd been in a really long time, he still noticed the way Dean's hand let something slip inside Castiel's glass.

Was this guy seriously trying to roofie him right now? Castiel had to suppress a sigh. It could've been such a nice night full of vigorous fucking...

"And because you made such a mess on my floor, I'll make you lick up your own cum while I pound you from behind a second time," Dean continued, as if he hadn't just slipped a date rape drug into his fucking drink.

Pretending to be too turned on to properly function, Castiel moaned right into Dean's ear and quickly let go of his drink. The glass escaped his grip, falling down noisily as it shattered on the floor.

"Oh, fuck," Castiel cursed, pretending to be embarrassed about the situation. "I'm so sorry, Dean," he muttered frantically, looking up at Dean with innocent eyes. "I didn't mean to."

While he apologized _profusely_ for making a mess on the floor -hah!-, Dean was looking down at the shards with pursed lips and a somewhat angry expression in his eyes. He quickly caught himself though, glancing up at Castiel with a forced smile.

"It's okay, I'll just get you another drink," Dean said, standing up, and Castiel gripped his leather jacket to stop him.

Dean looked down at him with an expectant frown and Castiel smiled up at him shyly. "Thank you," he said.

Dean smiled back. "You're welcome, sweetheart," he replied. "Safe me a seat?" he asked, winking at Castiel, who nodded, and turned to walk towards the bar. Castiel let go of him willingly.

As soon as Dean was gone, he looked down at the small pill in his hand. Beside this one, there had been no other ones in Dean's jacket, meaning he wouldn't be able to spike another drink of his, thankfully.

The knowledge alone should have been enough for Castiel. He could simply walk away now, knowing Dean wouldn't be able to rape anyone tonight -- or at least not as easily. But something in Castiel was reluctant to go. It's not that Dean was attractive enough for Castiel to be able to overlook the attempted rape and let himself be fucked anyway -even though, admittedly, it was part of it-, it was also that Castiel's pride was hurt. Had Dean genuinely believed Castiel would fall for that little distraction and let himself be drugged as easily as this? Well, bad luck for him because Castiel had certainly been in enough clubs to know what to pay attention to.

Deciding that Dean deserved some kind of revenge at least, Castiel quickly slipped the little pill into Dean's own drink that was still standing on the table. Oh yes, he would show Dean what it was like to be drugged against his will. See if he liked that.

Content with his decision, Castiel leaned back against the couch and turned to watch Dean at the bar. He'd just gotten the drink handed to him from the bartender and was obviously looking for something in his jacket pocket, not finding it.

_Poor Dean, not getting any sex tonight,_ Castiel thought. Or so Dean believed.

Obviously angry with himself for losing his precious roofies, Dean grumbled and walked back towards him in resignation. He plastered a smirk on his face once he saw Castiel looking.

"Here," Dean said, handing him the glass as he sat back down.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said genuinely, holding up his glass in an obvious gesture. "To my stupidity?" he asked and Dean laughed, picking up his own drink. "To your stupidity," he agreed, clinking his glass against Castiel's, and they both took a few sips.

Castiel smiled.

"So, where were we?" Dean asked and the conversation went on as it had before -- laced with innuendos and 'what I want to do to you's. It was a pleasant talk, considering the circumstances, even though it kind of strained on Castiel's nerves. He was really starting to get blue balls from the lack of real action.

_Only a few more minutes_ , he told himself. Dean was already slurring his words, leaving sentences unfinished and he was gulping a lot more than before. He was also sweating slightly. It was nothing too obvious but Castiel knew what to look for and he could tell that the drug was taking its toll on Dean.

"So, what do you say," Castiel started. "Wanna go back to my place?" his voice dropped significantly.

Dean nodded and smirked stupidly, a little spaced out, but Castiel knew that was his own fault. "Let's go," Castiel said and grabbed Dean's hand, pulling him with him. Dean followed willingly.

Castiel knew there'd be cabs just outside the club and he was right, of course. As soon as they got outside, they climbed into one, Castiel telling the driver his address and watching Dean slumping back into his seat exhaustedly. Smirking, Castiel didn't hesitate to climb in his lap.

"Giving up already, Dean?" Castiel asked, smirking at Dean's reaction. He was shaking his head furiously, slurring a protest immediately.

"No way, babe! Jus' feeling a li'l drowsy. Must've drunk too much," he explained, but Castiel knew that was bullshit. He knew the real reason for Dean's behavior and it was only a matter of time until Dean himself would realize. Hopefully, he'd be too far gone to voice his thoughts by then.

In an attempt to distract Dean from figuring it out, Castiel pressed his lips against Dean's, grinding his hips against the older man's. Dean let out a happy little groan and opened his mouth sloppily, eager for Castiel's tongue. The cab driver in the front cleared his throat to get their attention but neither of them cared enough to stop. The man would just have to suffer through.

Shoving his tongue down Dean's throat, Castiel started kissing him in earnest, not caring that Dean's coordination was sloppy and confused. It wouldn't be too long and Dean wouldn't know what was going on anymore and stop participating completely. Until now though, he could still squeeze Castiel's ass with clumsy hands and pull him against his cock. He left the grinding to Castiel.

After what seemed like seconds but was actually a few minutes, the cab stopped outside Castiel's small house.

The cab driver gained their attention with some difficulty and Castiel paid him, before pulling Dean outside by his collar. Dean was stumbling significantly and instinctively held on to Castiel, slumping against him heavily. Honestly, it was a little draining to drag him into the house, Dean being heavier than he'd expected, and Castiel somewhat regretted having waited so long to take Dean home. Now it was too late though, and even though it was a bit exhausting, Castiel managed to open the door and pull Dean inside.

"Cas," Dean slurred when Castiel pressed him against the door, locking lips with the beautiful, only half-conscious man in his company. God, he was gonna have _so much fun_ with him...

"Can you walk to the bedroom?" Castiel asked when he pulled away, only to have Dean nod determinedly and stumble a second later. "I suppose not," Castiel mumbled to himself and laid Dean's arm around his shoulder, heaving him up. The way to the bedroom wasn't a long one, but it seemed to take forever.

"Finally," Castiel sighed when he pushed the older man onto the bed, not a protest in sight. Standing at the edge of the bed, Castiel looked down on him with hunger in his eyes.

"You're so hot, Dean," he sighed and climbed on the bed himself, leaning down to shove his tongue into Dean's mouth in a sloppy kiss, and then began undressing him. Dean didn't do anything to help, but that was okay. Castiel didn't blame him.

When Dean was finally naked, Castiel pulled off his own clothes hurriedly, throwing them off the bed, and then climbed into Dean's lap without hesitation. Sadly, Dean's cock was flaccid beneath him.

"It's a shame you can't get hard, Dean," he said, biting a mark onto Dean's collarbone. Dean's eyelids fluttered in an attempt to fight the numbness. "I would've _loved_ to ride you all night long..."

But it was okay. He had expected Dean not to be able to get aroused while on drugs. It was only natural. Then again, this wasn't about riding Dean, this was about _revenge_. Castiel wanted Dean to be humiliated when he woke up, to know that Castiel was the one who used his body without permission instead of the other way round. And Castiel wanted Dean to regret it for days...

He began grinding down on him. Sucking marks into Dean's skin, he grabbed his arms and pulled them above Dean's head, trapping him underneath him. Dean wouldn't fight Castiel - _couldn't_ -, but Castiel liked the way it made him feel superior. He wasn't usually the dominant partner in bed, but he'd definitely make an exception for this one.

"How does it feel to be helpless, huh?" Castiel asked. "To not know what's going on. To be at my fucking mercy," Castiel hissed, digging his nails into Dean's arms, and licked into his unresponsive mouth again.

"You know what I'm gonna do to you first?" Castiel asked conversationally, letting go of Dean's arms and looking down on him predatorily. Dean was staring up at him with a blank look in his eyes, eyelids heavy, and his lips were parted slightly. The sight made Castiel's dick throb painfully. "I'm gonna fuck your mouth and then come all over your face," Castiel decided and got up on his knees, crawling forwards and stopping right above Dean's head. Gripping his dick and stroking it one or two times, he pressed his cock against Dean's lips.

"Your cocksucker mouth can finally do what it's made for," Castiel said breathlessly, and slowly pushed his cock into Dean's slack mouth. Moaning at the feeling of _wet, hot, perfect_ , he couldn't help but buck into it, burying his whole length in Dean's throat. Dean didn't visibly react and fuck if that didn't turn Castiel on. He pulled back after a few moments, not wanting to accidentally choke Dean while unconscious and instead set a hard rhythm, using Dean's throat for all it was worth.

"Fuck, Dean, your mouth feels so good," he moaned, loving the feeling of Dean's soft tongue giving in to Castiel's insistent fucking, loving the way Dean could take _all of him_ without the barest hint of a choke. Castiel know that was thanks to the roofies, but he didn't care either way. Dean felt amazing.

Fastening his pace, he knew it wouldn't be long before he'd be coming. Dean's mouth just felt too good to hold out any longer. Bucking into the heat a few more times, Castiel could feel the curling in his gut and pulled out right before it was too late. Jacking his cock the rest of the way, he groaned heavily and came all over Dean's face. He continued to jerk himself through his orgasm as he watched strings of come sputter onto Dean's cheeks, his lips, his now perfectly closed eyelids. It was a wonderfully sinful thing to see Dean like this. Dishonored. Abused. Taken advantage of.

"Yeah, take it all, Dean," he muttered, watching closely as the last spurts of come hit Dean's face. Some of it dipped past Dean's parted lips, entering his mouth, and it made Castiel go crazy with want. "Oh fuck," he grunted and dove downwards again, locking his lips with the other's, tasting himself on Dean's tongue. Castiel felt the best kind of dirty.

After a few minutes, he pulled back reluctantly, staring down at the mess he created. He was aware that his own face was stained with come, but fuck if he cared.

"Shit, I gotta take a photo of this," he mumbled, scrambling off Dean to get his cell phone out of his pocket. When he finally found it, he took a picture of Dean and him kissing with come all over their faces.

"Perfect," he decided when he saw how it had turned out. He set the phone aside.

"Now I'm gonna fuck you and make you feel it for days," Castiel announced, not caring that there was no one to listen. Castiel simply loved the sound of his own voice.

Opening his drawer, he pulled out a small bottle of lube and put some of it onto his fingers. It wasn't necessarily to decrease the pain Dean wouldn't be feeling -because Castiel doubted Dean was able to even feel anything at the moment- but more for his own good. Nobody wanted to chafe their own dick, now, did they?

"You ready, _sweetheart_?" Castiel mocked one of the pet names Dean had called him in the club, pressing the first finger against Dean's entrance. "Let's see how much of me you can take," Castiel said and insistently pushed past Dean's pucker.

Luckily for Dean, his unconscious body was so relaxed that Castiel had nearly no trouble at all penetrating him with his fingers, and soon enough he had three of them inside of Dean, moving freely. In a spur of the moment, Castiel took another picture with a fourth finger up Dean's hole. Oh yeah, Castiel couldn't wait to see Dean's face the next morning, looking at these.

Pulling out his fingers, Castiel covered his recovered dick in lube and lined himself up, pushing in too quickly for Dean to normally adjust. It didn't matter this time though, so Castiel set a brutal pace right from the beginning, fucking up into the tight heat of Dean's ass, moaning obnoxiously.

"Do you like that, Dean?" he panted, sheathing his cock up to the hilt and slamming back in a matter of moments. It was a relief Castiel didn't have to aim for Dean's prostate and could simply... well, fuck himself in him.

Oh yes, sex was so much better like this...

"Fuck," he cried out when he got closer to the edge, licking up Dean's chest in a frenzy. "So fucking sexy, Dean, so _fucking_ hot," he complained and bit into Dean's shoulder so hard he drew blood. He bit his chest a few more times, sucked marks into Dean's flawless skin, pinched his nipples, and then Castiel was coming, mouth opening in a silent scream while he emptied inside of Dean. A few more shoves and it was done, Castiel pulling out of Dean carefully.

"Oh fuck," he cursed again. Somehow, his vocabulary seemed to have been reduced to only those two words in the last few minutes.

He took a picture of Dean's come-leaking hole, all the while cursing up a storm, and then collapsed right next to him, closing his eyes for a minute. Two rounds in such a short time weren't all that much for Castiel, usually, but there was something about fucking an unconscious body that just drew him out. Maybe it was the fact that he was the only one working for it or maybe it was the added sense of _wrong_ that had him feeling this so much more intensely. Whatever the reason, Castiel decided he'd take a small break.

He could have Dean all night after all...

* * *

Dean awoke the next morning to a dick coming in his ass and the feeling of his arms having been tied to the headboard. "Shit, Dean," a hoarse voice ground out into his ear. "Looking so good on my cock, babe, fuck," the voice groaned loudly.

Dean groaned, too, then, but it was more from _feeling like shit_ than the pleasure of an orgasm.

"Oh, you're awake," Castiel -that was his name, _Castiel_ \- spoke up when he heard Dean's grunt of pain. Opening his eyes with some difficulty, Dean found intense blue ones staring right back at him. The bastard was wearing a shit-eating grin.

"Get out of my asshole, you dick," Dean growled, not able to move under Castiel's weight and the handcuffs, and he groaned again, closing his eyes. He'd underestimated the murderous headache that was starting to settle in.

Castiel simply huffed out a laugh, but pulled out his softening cock nevertheless.

"Doesn't feel all that great, huh? Getting roofied," Castiel asked smugly and Dean glared at him. Before he could answer with something witty though, the feeling of being sick punched him in the gut like a freight train and he groaned again, in pain. "Cas, please, untie me, I think I'm gonna be sick," he warned and Castiel did as he said. Seconds later, Dean was on his feet and sprinting for the bathroom. Luckily for him, the door was literally right next to the bed.

Collapsing to his knees in front of the toilet bowl, he threw up the second he reached it, emptying his stomach immediately -- or what little was left in it. He hadn't eaten a lot the night before, so basically all that came out was liquid mixed with bile. Puking that up was an excruciating feeling and it smelled like shit, but at least now there was nothing left to vomit afterwards.

Well, at least in theory. Because for some reason, his body didn't get the fucking notion. He continued dry-heaving for what felt like half an hour -but was actually more like two minutes- and when he finally stopped, he was watery eyed and exhausted, holding on to the toilet seat for dear life.

"You okay?" a voice sounded from next to him and Dean's gaze lifted up to its source. Castiel was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and a somewhat worried expression on his face.

"Don't act like you care," Dean muttered and his voice sounded even worse than he felt. He swallowed against the disgusting taste in his mouth.

"I _do_ care, Dean," Castiel insisted and came to sit next to him. "I didn't _want_ to roofie you, Dean. But I had no other choice. You needed to learn your lesson."

Dean huffed a laugh. "What lesson? _Don't roofie people_? Trust me, I could've figured that out on my own," he said and pulled himself to his feet, wincing at the stinging in his ass. "Now where's your fucking kitchen? I need a bottle of water and some coffee," he growled.

Looking up at him skeptically, Castiel decided not to mention that they were both still very much naked and covered in cum, and instead rolled his eyes and stood up as well. "Follow me," he ordered and led them into the kitchen.

"Here," he then said, filling a cup with the coffee he had made this morning, grabbing a bottle of water, and setting both of it down on the counter.

Dean sat down -Castiel would clean the chair from the cum stains once Dean was gone- and stared at the cup of coffee with a blank look. He glanced up. "You didn't roofie this, too, did you?" he asked and even though his tone was serious, Castiel could see the sparkle of mirth in his eyes.

Giving Dean his best bitch face, Castiel grabbed for Dean's cup and took a sip of his coffee in reply. "Happy?" he asked.

"Very happy," Dean said and took a sip himself.

Silence fell as Castiel poured himself a cup and sat down across from Dean, who had opted to open the bottle of water and gulp it all down in one go. It was kind of impressive if you thought about it.

"Ahhh..." Dean sighed when he was done, reveling in the feeling of _not being thirsty anymore_. His head was still thumping painfully, but Dean had had hangovers as bad as this, so it was manageable.

"So..." he then said hesitantly, sitting up straighter in his seat. "I probably don't wanna know, but..." Dean started, catching Castiel's eye and holding it shamelessly. "What exactly did you do to me last night?"

Castiel had to suppress a smirk at the question, silently biting his lip and looking down at his coffee. "I could make you a slideshow out of it later," he winked, causing Dean to go a little red in the face, if in anger or embarrassment, Castiel didn't know. "Let me just get my phone, I'll show you," he then added, a little more serious this time.

Dean only nodded and Castiel left for the bedroom where his phone was still lying on the bedside table. Grabbing it, he pulled up the pictures from last night and headed back into the kitchen.

"Go nuts," he said and handed it to Dean. Looking at him with raised eyebrows, Dean turned his gaze to the phone in his hands... and froze.

_God fucking damnit_.

Castiel chuckled.

He knew what picture Dean was looking at. It was the first one he'd taken, of Castiel shoving his tongue down Dean's throat, both with cum-covered faces.

He remembered the picture vividly, just like he remembered all of the other ones, as if they were tattooed into his mind.

Dean with four fingers up his ass.

Dean with come leaking out of his hole.

Castiel tearing at Dean's abused nipple with his teeth, its color so red it was almost glowing.

Dean with Castiel's dick down his throat for the second time.

Dean with a plug nestled deep inside his beautiful behind, holding in all the come Castiel had put there.

Dean with his arms tied to the headboard, legs spread on the covers, leaking from his freshly-fucked hole.

The pictures were masterpieces, Castiel knew. He just wasn't so sure Dean would see it that way.

"This," Dean started hoarsely, swiping through the pictures with an unreadable expression, "is so. _fucking_. hot."

Castiel blinked.

"Seriously, you basically used me as a real-life sex doll," Dean said, smirking down at one of the pictures. It was the one of Dean deepthroating Castiel's cock, he realized. "I bet I was real compliant, huh?" he asked, talking more to himself than Castiel. "Just lying there while you fucked me, taking everything you gave me. _Taking_ _your cock down my throat_. Fuck, Cas, you're a genius," he groaned and couldn't help but wrap a hand around his dick, which was hidden from Castiel's view but undoubtedly hard.

"Hey, you are _not_ gonna jerk off in my kitchen!" Castiel said, scandalized, and ripped his phone from Dean's hands. Pouting, Dean let go of his dick reluctantly.

_Unbelievable_ , Castiel thought. This had been supposed to be a punishment for Dean. A humiliating experience! Instead, Dean had taken it and made it his masturbatory fantasy...

But hey, on the bright side, at least Dean was hard now, maybe Castiel could use that to his advantage and ride him later... It was the only thing he hadn't been able to do with the unconscious older man.

"Admit it, though," Dean pulled him from his thoughts. "Fucking an unconscious body is _kind of_ amazing," he said.

"Is that why you tried to roofie me, even though it was clear to everyone that I was willing to come home with you? Because you preferred me unconscious?" Castiel asked with raised eyebrows and Dean's smirk told him everything he needed to know.

_Huh_ , Castiel thought. He seemed to have gotten himself a _seriously_ screwed up fellow. But then again, after last night, Castiel wasn't one to talk.

"Well, _Dean_ ," Castiel started, leaning forwards on the counter suggestively. "I guess you'll just have to keep trying."

He winked, hoping Dean would take it as the invitation it was.

"Until then..." he continued, turning to walk towards the bedroom while inconspicuously presenting his ass to Dean. "Why don't you get rid of your boner the traditional way?"


End file.
